Harry Potter and the Journey Through Decades
by The Amber Author
Summary: It's all over. They're all dead. But when Harry gets one more chance, one final chance to set things right and get the happily ever after he deserves, things go astray. The world had better watch out, because in his eleven-year-old body with all his memories intact, Harry Potter is back. Contains Abusive!Dursleys, Alive!Everyone and there is no bashing whatsoever. HG, RHr.
1. Chapter 1

They were gone. All of them. All of them were gone.

 _How,_ he thought miserably. He had won. He had killed Voldemort- all of it was over. But this was not how the story was supposed to end. The happily ever after couldn't end with Harry there, on his knees in the midst of a sea of bodies. It shouldn't end with him staring helplessly at the carcasses of those who were once his family, and who were meant to be more.

No, he thought, letting tears temporarily blind his vision as he grasped Ginny's cold hand tighter. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to forget her lifeless brown eyes. No, it shouldn't have ended like that. It just wasn't right- Ginny was supposed to be his wife. They were supposed to live through it all- they were supposed to have kids. Ron would have been there- he would have been Harry's best man. Hermione was definitely going to be a bridesmaid.

 _Was..._

How did everything go so downhill from there? He had died, and then came back- he had done this for them. Voldemort was gone. But he took all those he had had a reason to live for with him.

What was the point of life, he thought grimly as his sight once against met the bodies of his friends. George had gone to his death along with Percy, wanting to avenge his twin. Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna, all of them- they had fought, fought until the very end of...everything. So what was the point of Harry's life now, when everyone else had died, when the survivors had either been shipped to St Mugnos or fled away by other people, or done the fleeing themselves. He had been born to fight- marked since the day he was an innocent child. He had no purpose in life now that he had completed his task.

 _But it just isn't fair..._ He thought, almost childishly. Why did he have to be the one to always feel pain? Why was _he_ the one with the gaping hole in his heart, feeling loss. Why not someone else? Why him...

Standing up, he made his choice. He pulled out his classic holly phoenix-feather wand, gripping it tightly. It was his entrance to the magical world, and it was what would help him leave it now. Gulping in not fear but readying he pointed it at his own throat. There was no fear this time- only determination. His hand shaking, he began to whisper the magic words.

"Avada-"

 _"Stop!"_

Harry abruptly turned around, only to find no one. There was no one but him. Was it a hallucination? A diversion by the small, nearly non-existent part of his mind that was reluctant, to stop him? Well, it wouldn't work.

"W-who are you?" Harry whispered cautiously in to the night, just in case. "And what do you want?"

 _"I want you to wait...you have another choice...The war-"_

"NO!" Harry said, his whisper turning into a scream of denial. "THERE'S NOTHING LEFT! I DON'T WANT TO DO IT ANYMORE, I DON'T WANT TO-"

 _"Don't you want to see them all again? Don't you want to change it all, to save all the lives that you can?"_ the soft feminine voice demanded, silencing Harry effectively.

"They're gone," he muttered, his voice a mere whisper again. "I can't bring them back. So I have to join them."

 _"No. This wasn't supposed to happen- you are right. Now you can change it. You have another choice, Harry."_

Harry's heart was in his throat as all his hope came rushing back.

 _"I can bring you back to your ten-year old self. With your knowledge of the future, Harry Potter, you can save them. You will be an eleven year old- only with the memories of a seventeen-year old wizard- your current memories. This has never happened before, and nor do I think it will again. Will you take this chance?"_

Harry didn't need to think about it for long. He would take it all- the years of abuse he'd suffered by the Dursleys, the humility, the hatred, all of it to save his friends. And he would do it all rightly this time. He would make sure of it.

"I...I agree." he said almost immediately. "But-who are you?"

There was a pause in which the cold wind blew and leaves of the dead tree nearby rustled. Harry thought no answer would come, for a moment. But then...

 _"I am Fate, Harry. And it is not your time to go yet."_

Harry closed his eyes for a last time as he fell to the ground, gasping, feeling as if his soul was being ripped out of his body. But it was not his time yet. Somewhere, in a dark cupboard under the stairs in Surrey, Harry Potter woke up.

-O-

He opened his eyes, not daring to believe it. It was dim inside wherever he was. Light was crawling beneath the closed door, but it was still dark enough not to see well.

Cautiously so as not to get his hopes up, Harry touched his face carefully- it was soft, free of battle scars except the infamous one on his forehead, and very child-like, clean without any hair.

Harry couldn't help it- he laughed silently. He laughed so much that tears of joy slid down his cheeks. He could do it. He could really do it- he could save all of his friends. He could even save Cedric, Colin, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and so many people. He would do things right this time. He would make sure of it. Everything would be perfect- he would not ignore Ginny as he had so stupidly done in his last life. He would be sure they were all ready. He would look at things in a new light- he would try to divert many of those who had unintentionally gone to the dark side, and he would be..better. At that moment, it didn't matter to him what great pressure he was under. It just mattered that he was ready. But... _when was he?_ Harry had a hunch. Cautiously, he slipped his hand under his baggy shirt, one of Dudley's. Sure enough, he winced slightly at his touch. Ouch. A bruised stomach from all the kicks. Harry had been too jubilant to notice. Taking a deep breath and concentrating, Harry pointed all his magic toward the horrible ache in his abodemn - soon, he barely felt anything at all, but he was exhausted. Wandless magic was always so tiring, never mind that he was older than he let on. At least now he knew it was a few days after the Boa Constrictor accident. Dudley and Aunt Petunia were another thing, too, Harry decided, to add to his list. Uncle Vernon was beyond repair. But every time he'd dare touch Harry, he knew Aunt Petunia would throw a snaky remark, usually an insult, and then leave as quickly as possible. When he was younger and had thought this was because she didn't want to waste precious time watching him being beaten to death, he knew better now. She was right on the verge of stuttering a 'good luck' to him before he left, but she had too much pride to. She must have felt something, at least a a twinge of remorse, he reasoned. And Dudley actually never happened upon his father's little 'disciplining sessions'.

Vernon apparently didn't trust him enough not to blab about it, despite him being his 'Dinky Diddydums'. But Dudley was just a kid- and he'd, in a strange sort of way, apologized to Harry. He could change his cousin- it wasn't really his fault he was brought up the way he was. He could change everything.

Deciding to take his cue and not wait to be woken up by Aunt Petunia's lovely voice, Harry got out of his tiny cupboard under the stairs.

It gave him a sense of deja vu, preparing breakfast for the Dursleys again. He was sure to make it a lot better that time. The bacon was perfect- not too crispy, and not too chewy and soft. HE prepared everything perfectly- it wouldn't do to slide off act now, he reminded himself as he heaped a mouth-watering amount of omelette onto the plates. He disliked all the servitude- but he knew that it was necessary. He had promised himself he would do whatever it took to help save his friends- even if it meant dealing it the Dursleys all over again. After making sure breakfast was ready, and glancing at the clock once again to confirm that it was, indeed, close to the Dursleys' waking time, Harry discreetly made himself a cheese sandwich and ran back to the cupboard.

He did not have much appetite- but he was hungry. It must have been close to his release date since the cupboard was not locked, meaning the impossible- it was the day Harry got his Hogwarts letter. Or his first one, anyway. And speaking of Hogwarts...

Not having any intention to make a single mistake Harry ruffled about and found a piece of paper and a fountain pen which was nearly out of ink.

There were things he had to make sure of. Problems...what were they. Harry got comfortable with the pen, and but his lip before beginning to write down.

 _The Sorcerer's Stone- redo?_ He couldn't leave the stone to Quirrel, nor could he risk hurting any of his friends again. The mountain troll incident would definitely not be taking place. He had to fix up Ron and Hermione's relationship quickly.

 _T.M.R's diary._ That one was really tricky. Harry would would take a dozen Crucio's before he let Ginny go through that again. But the chamber had to be opened- the Horcrux had to be destroyed, and the Basilisk had to be killed. Harry, however, had no intention letting Ginny be the victim this time- nor anyone else, for that matter. He'd have to look into that later.

 _Lockhart, Sirius, Cedric._

Yes, Lockhart was a fraud. Yes, he deserved at least a few months in Azkaban for this, but no, Harry did not intend to erase every memory of his for it. He just wasn't that kind of person. He knew it was probably Lockhart's fault in the first place, but he would try and make it one of his lesser priorities to make sure that didn't happen again. He definitely couldn't let Sirius rot in Azkaban with the dementors, or let Cedric die.

Sighing, Harry hid the piece of paper carefully so that no one could see it and rushed out, ready to do his part.

-O-

To his credit, Harry thought he played his part well. He let fury fill him when refused his Hogwarts letter, (he had decided not to open it in the hall and to continue _this_ particular event the way it was because it might mean we wouldn't get to meet Hagrid if it turned out differently) fury that came from his originally eleven year-old self. He was defiant- he fought...Until his Uncle Vernon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shoved him in the cupboard, telling him to pack quick and go to Dudley's second bedroom or else...

Harry let a small smirk grace his lips when he was alone. He gathered a few things in his arms, and made sure to tuck his new 'To-Do' list safely in his pocket and survey it later, should he have the time to ponder things.

Seeing Dudley's second bedroom made his heart ache, for some reason. He looked at the window on the left corner, and he could just barely imagine thick iron bars sealing it shut tightly, and two crazy Weasley twins, plus Ron, pulling off the bars with out jerk of their Ford Anglia, triumphant looks on their faces. He smiled wistfully, not letting his tears fall. He would make sure they survived to remember that incident years later and laugh about it. He would change everything. Everything would be perfect.

 **So happy to be writing after the horrific exams that I don't care if it's cliche...I've been wanting to do this one for a while. R &R 'cuz I really appreciate it.**


	2. Fixing Relationships

It was funny how some things just never changed, and how others needed just a little work here and there to be different beyond recognition.

The letters arrived in sequence, just like they had before. So it was a very jubilant Uncle Vernon who was knocking in wooden boards on the mail slot with one of Aunt Petunia's rock-hard fruit cakes that he'd seen that day. For once, Harry was grateful he did most of the cooking at the Dursleys if Aunt Petunia's baking results made good substitutes for mallets.

There was one thing that Harry had been determined to change since he had arrived, however. The past days, he locked himself in Dudley's second room, working on his To-Do list which now included Draco Malfoy and, of course, one Dudley Dursley. Harry decided to give it a go- but not deliberately. At least, Dudley didn't have to know he'd done it purposely.

Of course, like before, the Dursleys had refrained from making him cook all too much, still under the illusion that wizards were watching them. Harry found himself snorting at the faulty prediction. In all honesty, he would have been angry at Dumbledore if the old Headmaster had known how he was treated and still left him there, but he knew that wasn't the case.

It was while he was getting breakfast ready (which was, of course, a rare occurrence now) that he saw his advantage- there wasn't enough bacon. Dudley loved that greasy stuff, so he would no doubt complain about it not being enough. During his other life-time, he had spotted this and prepared something else. He let a grin split his face. This time, he was going to use it to his advantage.

Perhaps Harry should have been slightly concerned for himself as he had deeply enjoyed cooking that day. Maybe he was a little too happy than he should have been- even the Dursleys got suspicious now and then that he was up to something. But he really couldn't help feeling great, knowing he was on the right way.

As planned, Petunia and Vernon woke up at their usual times. Dudley had only just walked in when his dad had left for work- that day was a Saturday. Dudley always slept in on Saturdays. Asking her Diddikins what he wanted and wrinkling her nose in cliche disgust at Harry, Petunia played her part as well.

"There's not enough bacon, mum." Dudley complained loudly. He pointed an accusing finger at Harry. "He must have made less to irk me, mum, see? He's planning on starving me!"

Harry silently snorted on the inside. He was surprised Dudley even knew what 'irk' meant. And he honestly thought anyone sensible enough to reduce Dudley's daily portion of food should be congratulated for helping his cousin out of the misery of obesity. Merlin knew why Aunt Petunia married Uncle Vernon in the first place...

However, Harry let a gobsmacked and indignant expression grace his features.

"No, honestly, Aunt Petunia, the bacon is over!" Harry swore, looking at his Aunt with wide eyes. Petunia just sniffed.

"Don't let the freak worry you Dinky Diddydums," she said, turning to Dudley. He voice turned into one of sympathy as she altered her voice as if she were cooing at a baby. "I'll order you your bacon right now." Petunia walked out of the kitchen, muttering things about freaks stealing her son's food right out of his mouth before she disappeared behind the door. Harry immediately turned to Dudley.

"You do believe me when I say it finished, don't you?" Harry asked with fake-anxiety. He hoped his cousin was stupid enough not to notice this change in personality- normally Harry wouldn't have cared less what Dudley believed.

Dudley snorted. "Why would I believe anything you say, you no-good freak?"

There was a pause in which Dudley stared at Harry, as if waiting for a response, whereas Harry stared right back with what he knew looked like an innocent expression of curiosity.

"How would you know if I'm a no-good freak, Dudley? What makes you say so?" His tone was questioning, but not harsh. He didn't want Dudley telling this to his parents and making them think Harry was questioning the fairness of the way they treated him.

"Uh...Uh.." Dudley shifted uncomfortable, clearly not liking the position Harry was putting him in.

"Er- why are you asking me this? Who do you think you are, anyway?" Dudley asked suddenly, his spoilt-brat-face on full gear.

Harry simply titled his head, remaining poker-faced.

"Your cousin," Harry said simply. "I didn't know my parents personally, Dudley, but I know they wouldn't have thought you were a no-good freak." Harry told him, repeating Dudley's words slowly so as not to give him the wrong idea. It was like an indirect argument of how much exactly Harry was worth.

Dudley looked uncertain, but then he stubbornly wrinkled his nose, stuck a fork full of bacon into his mouth and chewed defiantly.

"You'we parwents wewe drunkhed arhses, tat's whyh." Dudley muttered through a mouth full of bacon.

"If being a drunken...ah, person, as you put it, makes you compassionate toward your nephew, I don't think it's so bad, Dudley." Harry said softly.

"Think about it." He left before his cousin could say anything else, hurrying back to his room. He knew Dudley wouldn't tell his mother or father- he just knew it. Vernon was never one to be good with sentiments, and his Aunt Petunia would give Dudley a few bowls of ice cream and a fake promise before going off to berate Harry for ever thinking he was of any value at all while it was so obviously clear he was just a useless burden to a decent family who was unfortunate enough to be related to him.

Not that Harry would care, but still. He thought about this as he shuffled through the shelf of Dudley's old broken toys for his now familair piece of paper. He couldn't find a pen though- Harry resigned after searching for several minutes and summoned it wandlessly. It was immensly exhausting, and it only made it about a few inches away from under his pillow-sheets, which he had apparently hid it under- his eyes were already drooping from this small performance. A frown crossed his face. He had to practice wandless magic, and perhaps becoming an animagus, too. He couldn't just nearly pass-out after a small act of it. Wandless magic was easy enough, but actual wandless _spells_ were tricky. He needed to be prepared if he would do this right- he was still a fairly lousy Occlumens, though he knew he made quite a bit of progress on it than he had with Snape.

Harry bit his lips as he surveyed what little he'd had time to write the past few days.

 _Draco Malfoy- divert Draco from the dark side and make him see the light-possible conversion to the light side._

 _Dudley Dursley- Mend relationship? Put in Progress._

He thought for a while before a new problem struck him out of the blue. He pondered it for a few minutes, thinking hard before coming to an appropriate solution.

 _Scar horcrux- destroy all horcruxes before third task of the Triwizard Tournament. Allow Voldemort to kill you. Die. Come back. Prior Incantateum; twin cores._

Harry smiled. That was one problem planned out. He knew all the Horcruxes- and if Sirius got free, (no, _when_ he was free, Harry reminded himself) he could have easy, completely legal access to all the Black vaults, being the official Lord Black. It also meant it would be easier to transfer most of Bellatrix's gold, and all the dark aretfacts she had in her vault, to Sirius'. He could even report it to the Ministry and earn dear old Bella a few extra years in Azkaban! Gringotts' vaults were of extreme privacy and no one was allowed, Ministry or not, into them without direct permission from the owner if the vaults, which would soon be Sirius, hopefully.

Harry let a sigh escape his lips. He couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts and put his plans into action, but then again, he was too nervous about making a mistake, too. He paced thoughtfully around Dudley's second bedroom to calm himself down.

But it didn't work. Pacing only made him more pensive. What about the Sorcerer's Stone? Dumbledore thought he had it protected- the charms around the mirror of Erised were good, but if Quirrel/Voldemort figured out how they worked, they'd just drag an unsuspecting victim, threaten them into trying to find the Sorcerer's Stone, and then kill them off after getting what they wanted. Harry couldn't let that happen. Of course, there was always the option of making sure Dumbledore didn't fall for the fake letter and stayed at Hogwarts- Quirrel wouldn't have time to sneak into the third corridor that way, nor would he dare to attempt this under the Headmaster's watchful eyes. But on the other hand...Harry, nor Voldemort, would discover the protection his mother had provided him with, which would cause Voldemort to be clueless about the ritual for a while...That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he needed to get back to life in the graveyard so Harry could kill him, or else he would find some other dark way around that little problem about him being bodiless and Harry's information on it would be for naught. He didn't want that.

He grunted in frustration, rubbing his temples. He stopped pacing and sank into his bed. It was going to a long four years.

* * *

Things went mostly as planned. Uncle Vernon was, of course, furious when he learned that his clever little technique didn't work, but he didn't dare lay a hand on Harry now that he and Petunia thought the house was being watched

Harry was pleased to note that they made it to Hut-On-Rock with little difference from how they did the last time.

But there _was_ one difference. This time, instead of a glum Harry Potter lying hopelessly on the cold floor with the thinnest of rugs, said Potter had a triumphant smile on his face- this was where it all would begin, and this was when the major changes were made.

Noisy knocks on the door brought his heart up his throat.

* * *

 **Tata! Well, thanks everyone for reviewing, it was greatly appreciated!**

 **RRs:**

White Story: Of course I won't do that! I find those as annoying as you do- so don't worry. The main point of re-do stories is to see how Fate smacks Harry in the face for trying to change things.

: Thanks bunches!

MaliciaPB: Here's your next chapter, Mali! How's your fanfic going, by the way?

Guest: Thank you :)

deant33: There you have it- I hope that answer's good for you.

Princess Of Flames: Lol, POF, you're like, one of my favorite reviewers. Seriously.

 ** _Peace out, yo-_**

 ** _-Ambs_**


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